


no judgment

by sophh



Series: Shades of Heartbreak Weather [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Gen, M/M, Stars & Scars, hospital!AU, muggle!AU, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26629540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/pseuds/sophh
Summary: When Sirius is injured in a motorcycle accident, he learns to walk again with help from physical therapist Remus and support from godson Harry.One instance of strong language.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Shades of Heartbreak Weather [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930666
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	no judgment

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by the incredible Dash (@DashFnanz)!

When Sirius opened his eyes, he felt awful. Every part of him ached, and he felt disoriented and confused. He was in a bed—but the mattress was thin and the blanket was scratchy, unlike his usual bed.

"Where am I?" he asked, but all that came out was a sort of croak.

"Shhh," a soothing male voice said from somewhere just above him. "Just take it easy, Sirius."

Sirius closed his eyes again and tried to focus on the voice. It sounded so familiar... "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Yes, it's me," Harry said. He sounded both relieved and excited. "Oh, thank God, I was so worried you wouldn't recognize me after—after—"

"After what?" Sirius demanded, attempting to sit up. When his body screamed in protest, he abandoned that endeavor, but still tried his hardest to open his eyes and train them on Harry. "What's going on, Harry?"

Through his bleary vision, Harry looked as though he was biting his lip, which meant that Sirius was not going to like what he said next. "You were in a motorcycle accident," he said at last. "You've—you've been in a coma for several weeks."

Sirius groaned. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I wish I was," Harry said quietly. "It was pretty touch and go for a while there. I thought for sure you were...you know."

Sirius _did_ know, and he felt awful about it. His godson had already lost his parents—and he had almost lost his godfather, too. It was a wonder Harry hadn't fallen to pieces.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered. "I'm so sorry I put you through that, Harry."

"No, no, it's alright," Harry rushed to say. "You're awake now, and that's all that matters."

Sirius flashed him a weak smile. "Thanks." To lighten the mood a little, he added, "Now, do you think I can get a burger or something here? I'm starving."

...

Harry managed to procure a burger and some lukewarm coffee while Dr. McKinnon came in to check on Sirius. She said that Sirius needed physical therapy, which would begin in several days' time. When Sirius relayed this information to Harry, his godson gave him a stern look.

"Make sure you take it seriously," he said.

"Oh, come on, Harry," Sirius sputtered, putting the remains of his burger down and crossing his arms. "I take everything seriously."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Sirius quickly backtracked.

"Fine, maybe not _everything_ , but I do take my health seriously—"

"Is that why you keep riding that death trap, Sirius? Because you _take your health seriously?_ "

Sirius flinched at the anger in Harry's voice, then reminded himself that his godson had every right to be upset. He _had_ almost died, after all.

"I keep riding my motorcycle because I love the freedom it gives me," Sirius explained. "It helps me clear my head on a bad day, or lifts my spirits higher on a good one."

"And I get that, Sirius, but you're not young anymore," Harry said. "You have to be more careful now."

"I _am_ careful," Sirius said, stung by his godson's words. It irked him that Harry was being so patronizing. He decided that he didn't want to be berated any longer, so he turned his back to the younger man. "And I'm pretty knackered, so I think I'll get some rest. See? I _do_ care about my health."

He heard Harry sigh, then felt a light touch on his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I was hard on you, Sirius," his godson murmured. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you too."

Sirius didn't consider himself a terribly emotional person, but Harry's words brought tears to his eyes. In the future, he was going to have to try and be more careful when riding his bike.

That is, if he was even able to ride again.

...

Sirius didn't do much over the next few days, except sleep and watch trashy television shows. Harry came by every day to regale him with stories about his detective pals and domestic adventures with his girlfriend, Ginny. He didn't bring up Sirius' motorcycle riding again, however, for which Sirius was grateful.

One morning, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Sirius called, expecting a nurse or perhaps Dr. McKinnon to walk through the door. He wasn't expecting the thin man with greying hair who walked in instead.

This man was dressed in faded khaki pants and a black polo uniform shirt that read "St. Mungo's Physical Therapy" on it. He looked to be about Sirius' age, but he also had large bags under his eyes, so it was hard for Sirius to exactly tell.

"Good morning, Mr. Black," the man said. He was soft-spoken, and Sirius had to strain a little to hear what he was saying. "I'm Remus Lupin, I'll be your physical therapist."

"Oh, right, the therapist," Sirius said cheerfully.

" _Physical_ therapist, Mr. Black," Remus Lupin corrected with the air of someone who was perpetually tired.

"Yeah, yeah." Sirius waved a hand. "It's Sirius, by the way, not Mr. Black. That was my father, may he _not_ rest in peace."

Remus just blinked at him, clearly not understanding.

"Bad joke," Sirius said hastily. "So, where do we start?"

...

Sirius did _not_ want to use the wheelchair at first—"I don't want people to feel sorry for me"—but Remus had a way of making him feel as though he ought to do as he was told. Eventually, he allowed the therapist to wheel him down the hall to the physical therapy room, which was set up with all kinds of equipment to help people with their rehabilitation.

"Alright, you're going to do some stretching exercises first," Remus said.

Sirius stared at him. " _Stretching_ exercises? When do I get to, you know, try walking?" He pointed to a set of parallel bars that were just a few feet off the floor. "When do I get to use those? Those look fun."

"When you're ready," Remus replied patiently.

"I _am_ ready," Sirius huffed.

"Being in a coma, you were lying down for a long time," Remus pointed out. "Are you able to move your ankles?"

"What kind of stupid—" Sirius began. He tried to move his ankles and realized that he couldn't. "Never mind."

"That's why you need to do the stretching exercises," Remus said. "Much of your body has been in disuse for some time, and you need to slowly, gradually build up to the level of use that it was at before. Does that make sense?"

Sirius nodded briefly. It made perfect sense, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He spent the rest of his half-hour session with Remus trying to move his ankles and bend his elbows. Getting back to "normal" was going to be much harder than he thought.

...

"You had your first physical therapy session today, right?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his chair. "How'd it go?"

Sirius harrumphed. "It went about as well as me trying to do laundry."

"So...not well?" Harry snorted. His face took on a somber look. "I'm sorry, though. I'm sure the first couple of times will be hard, but soon your body will get used to the challenge."

"You know, this is the most anyone has ever talked about my body in one day," Sirius joked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I love you, Sirius, but you can be so gross."

"That's just part of my charm," Sirius chuckled.

"So what's this physical therapist like?" Harry pressed. "Is he or she nice to you?"

"He. And yeah, he's nice," Sirius replied, thinking back to how patient Remus had been with him. The physical therapist hadn't treated him like something broken or someone to be pitied. After all of the concerned looks he had received from everyone else, the session with Remus had been a breath of fresh air.

"That's good," Harry said. He settled back into the hard plastic hospital chair and grinned at Sirius. "So, did I tell you that I bought a ring?"

"For Ginny, you mean?" Sirius clarified.

"Yeah."

Sirius couldn't help but smile at how happy Harry sounded, even as he felt a little envious of his godson's youth and relationship status. It had been a long time since he had been in love, and he wasn't exactly getting any younger.

"Ginny is lucky to have you, Harry," he said. "And I—I know your parents would have been so proud of the man you've become."

Harry stilled, then blinked back tears. "Thank you, Sirius." He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes.

...

Sirius was loathe to admit it, but he was beginning to look forward to his sessions with Remus. Something about knowing that he would get to see the other man's gentle smile and hear his pleasant voice cheered him up immensely.

He was making slow progress towards being able to walk again. He couldn't lift himself out of the wheelchair by himself just yet, but he could grip the parallel bars and take a few shaky steps.

"Great work today, Sirius," Remus said one day, patting him on the shoulder. Sirius tried to ignore the swooping in his stomach at the light touch. He told himself that he had just been alone for far too long—the isolation was clearly getting to him.

"Thanks," he said gruffly.

Remus leaned down to make eye contact with him, and Sirius was momentarily distracted by his kind amber eyes. "I mean it. You're making very good progress, far more than I was expecting."

Sirius looked away. "I'm just hoping I can be out of this chair by the time my godson gets married."

"Having a goal can be very helpful," Remus said, his tone encouraging. "When is the wedding?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't even proposed yet, actually, but he told me that he bought a ring, so it's only a matter of time. I just—it's really important to me that I be there to walk him down the aisle."

"I see. Well, I'll do everything in my power to help you make that happen, but I do want you to understand and be prepared for the fact that it might not," Remus told him.

"I know," Sirius mumbled.

...

"Do you have kids, Remus?" Sirius asked his physical therapist.

He had been working with Remus for a little over a month, and slowly, the two had begun opening up to each other a little. They had started out talking about sports and the weather—innocuous things. Eventually, they had exhausted those topics and moved on to their interests and hobbies. Now, it seemed to Sirius, they might be ready to get more personal.

Remus hesitated for a moment before giving his answer. "I have a son."

"Oh." Sirius was surprised by this. Remus had never made any mention of a wife or girlfriend, and he wasn't wearing a ring. "Do you...see him often?"

"No, he lives with his mum," Remus said quietly.

Sirius began to feel as though Remus would rather talk about something else, so he quickly changed the subject. "I never had kids. Never wanted them, really. Of course, I've got Harry—my godson—but I usually feel more like his cool uncle than a parent figure with him."

Remus smiled. "Harry, right. He's the one getting married, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he finally proposed to his girlfriend, Ginny," Sirius answered. "They haven't decided on a date for the wedding yet, but Harry says he's willing to wait until I can walk him down the aisle."

"That's very sweet of him," Remus noted.

"He's a great kid," Sirius agreed. "He reminds me of his father more and more every day."

"You and his father were friends, then?" They had reached the physical therapy room, and Remus held out his arm to Sirius. Sirius pushed himself out of the wheelchair and grabbed the other man's arm. His balance was still off, so he teetered dangerously until Remus steadied him.

"Uh, yeah, we were best mates at school, James and I," Sirius said. His heart was racing, but he wasn't sure whether that was due to Remus' hand on his waist or the fact that he had almost fallen over. "Did you have a best mate at school?"

"Oh, no," Remus shook his head. "No, I was a bit of a loner. Sometimes I think I was more concerned with my grades than with making friends."

"Sounds lonely," Sirius commented, slowly picking up one foot and then the other.

"It was, at times," Remus said, "but I got used to it."

Having reached the parallel bars, Sirius reached out and propped his elbows up on them. He missed the warmth of Remus' body against his, but he was determined not to think about that.

"I would have been your friend," was all he said aloud.

...

"I brought coffee," Harry announced, holding out a small paper cup.

Sirius made a face. "The coffee here is foul; I'm not drinking that."

"Suit yourself," Harry said, taking a sip from the cup himself. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing as well as can be expected, given that I'm in a glorified jail cell," Sirius replied, glaring at the walls around him as though they had personally done him wrong.

"Fair enough," Harry said lightly. "So, how's physical therapy going?"

Sirius shrugged and adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up a little more. "Fine."

"Just fine?" Harry persisted.

"Jesus, Harry, what more do you want me to tell you?" Sirius groaned. He certainly wasn't going to admit to his godson that he seemingly _felt_ something for his therapist.

Harry gave him a hurt look. "Sorry. I just thought maybe you'd have a bit more to say than that."

"You're just asking because you want to know when to schedule your wedding," Sirius retorted.

"What—? Sirius, that's not—"

"Yeah, it is. I know how badly you've wanted to marry Ginny, so why don't you find someone else to walk you down the aisle? You know, someone who can actually _walk?_ " Sirius was shouting by that point. He was tired—tired of working so hard and achieving so little, tired of feeling like a burden, tired of seeking out the love of others and never receiving it. Harry, he had decided, was better off without him.

"I know the past month has been difficult for you, Sirius, but pushing me away isn't going to accomplish anything," Harry said as a single tear rolled down his face. "I'm trying to be here for you. Please let me."

Sirius sighed as the guilt began to set in. "You've been great, Harry, really, but this is supposed to be a happy time for you. You're newly engaged, and instead of making plans for your wedding, you're stuck looking after this old sod."

"I don't mind," his godson said earnestly. "And you're _not_ an old sod; don't be ridiculous."

Sirius crossed his arms and stared up at the ceiling.

"Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change anything," Harry continued. "Trust me, I know."

Sirius couldn't help it—he let out a bark of laughter. "I thought I was supposed to be the sage one here."

...

Seven weeks after Sirius woke up from his coma, he and Remus were standing in the physical therapy room. Sirius had managed to lift himself out of the wheelchair and take a few shaky steps towards the walker that Remus indicated. Today, he would be using that to move around.

"So, you and your father didn't get along?" Remus asked, his brow furrowed slightly.

Sirius shook his head and took a step.

"I remember you hinting about that when we first met. What about you and your mother?"

Again, Sirius shook his head and took a step.

"You and your brother?" Remus tried.

"Nope. My whole family was rotten to the core," Sirius said matter-of-factly. He grinned at the other man. "Well, except me, of course."

"Of course," Remus agreed, smiling back.

Maybe it was the way that Remus was looking at him, or maybe it was the connection that Sirius felt between them, but all of a sudden, he felt compelled to ask the physical therapist a burning question.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he blurted out, slowly plodding along the wall of the room.

"I suppose you can ask, but I may not answer," Remus replied.

"What's the story with you and your son's mum? I notice you don't talk about her." Sirius held his breath and hoped that he hadn't crossed a line.

Remus tugged at the hem of his usual black polo and frowned. "That's, ah, something I don't discuss with patients."

Sirius could have kicked himself. Of course Remus didn't see him as anything other than a patient. Any sort of _friendship_ he might have thought that they had _,_ it was all in his head. It wasn't real.

The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. There wasn't anything between him and Remus, and there never would be.

Sirius' legs suddenly felt as though they might give out from under him. He faltered, and Remus came rushing to his side.

"Sirius? What's going on?" He sounded worried enough, but Sirius knew better than to be fooled by it now.

"Nothing," he snapped, shrugging off the other man's hand. "I just lost my footing."

"That's not what it looked like—"

"I'm fine," Sirius said testily.

...

"Have you set a date for the wedding yet, Harry?"

It was later that evening, and Harry had swung by for his usual visit. Harry, who had been in the middle of telling him about Ginny's attempts to make brownies that weekend, stopped and looked at Sirius.

"Come again?"

"The wedding," Sirius repeated. "Have you set a date for it yet?"

Harry combed his hair nervously with his hand before answering. "Erm, not yet."

"Why not?" Sirius wanted to know. "I should be walking properly any day now."

"Really? That's great news, Sirius!" Harry said, leaning over to hug him. "Sounds like physical therapy is working wonders for you."

"I'll be glad when it's over, to be honest," Sirius grumbled. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

Harry sat back down in his chair and frowned. "I thought you liked going. You're always talking about that Remus bloke—" The younger man suddenly stopped speaking and grinned widely.

Sirius didn't like the stunned clarity he saw in his godson's eyes. "What?" he growled.

"Sirius, do you—" Harry lowered his voice slightly, "—do you _fancy_ Remus?"

"So what if I do?" Sirius countered, immediately feeling defensive.

"No, no, I think it's wonderful," Harry said quickly. "You've been so lonely; this is good for you."

Sirius sighed. "If only he saw me as more than just a patient. I thought we were at least friends, but he made it pretty clear that we're not even that."

He proceeded to tell Harry about the events of his session that morning. Harry was a captivated listener, making the appropriate sympathetic noises and faces in all the right places. When Sirius finished, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. That must have hurt. But maybe he just doesn't feel like he can act on anything right now _because_ you're his patient. Maybe he's waiting to make a move when you're not his patient anymore."

"I don't know," Sirius said, sinking back into his pillows. "I mean, I don't even know if he likes men."

...

It was Sirius and Remus' eighth week working together and it seemed as though their time was coming to an end. Sirius was able to walk about the room unaided, and Remus seemed more than eager to never speak to him again.

Sirius regretted ever prying into the other man's life, but there was no going back now—no undo button or time machine could fix it. In order to fill the silence, he resorted to making dumb jokes and observations, trying to make Remus smile. He succeeded a few times, and those moments always made his heart soar.

"Good work today," Remus said with none of his usual enthusiasm. He glanced down at his clipboard. "I think today was our last session, so—"

"So I'm no longer your patient, right?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded, albeit after a short pause. "That's correct."

"Great, because I could really use...a friend," Sirius said. "Someone who understands everything I went through."

Remus didn't meet Sirius' eye. "I don't think that's appropriate—"

"Why not?" Sirius pressed. "If I'm not your patient anymore, then what's the big deal?"

"I couldn't—" Remus paused, then started again. "I'm sorry. I just don't think it's possible for us to be friends."

Sirius was sorely disappointed by this, but he simply nodded and held out his hand. "Thanks for everything, then."

When Remus' hand touched his, he had to repress a shiver.

...

Sirius had been cleared for release from St. Mungo's. Dr. McKinnon had come in to tell him the news herself, and he had been so excited that he had almost hugged her.

"I'm sick of this food," he said, eliciting a laugh from her.

"I hear that a lot," she told him before departing.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sirius went to answer it, and was shocked to find none other than his physical therapist on the other side.

"Remus?" He had never seen the man look so uncomfortable.

"May I come in?" Without waiting for an answer, the usually mild-mannered Remus pushed past him and walked into the room.

"Remus, what—"

"I heard you were being released today, so I wanted to come and tell you something," Remus said hurriedly, as though afraid that he might be interrupted. He began to twist his hands together. "But...I don't know how you'll take it. I don't want you to think less of me, or—or think I'm a complete freak—"

"Talk away," Sirius said, spreading his arms wide. "This is a judgment-free zone, Remus, I promise."

"I—I planned this moment in my head so many times but I never saw it going like this—"

Sirius did the only thing he could think of to calm the agitated man—he put his hands on Remus' shoulders and looked directly into his eyes, ignoring the flip-flopping of his stomach. "Remus, take a deep breath."

"I'm trying!" He took several large gulps of air. "Maybe—maybe I should sit down."

"Good idea," Sirius said, quickly drawing up a chair for him.

Remus sat down and trained his eyes on the floor. "Last week, you asked me about my son's mother."

Sirius wasn't sure where the other man was going with this, but he nodded encouragingly. "Right."

"What I didn't tell you—what I _couldn't_ tell you is that I was married to her, but we got divorced."

"I see." Sirius didn't know what else to say to that. It hardly seemed like the revelation he had been prepared for.

"We got divorced," Remus continued, still staring downwards, "because I came out as gay."

Though Sirius was surprised, he tried not to show it. "Can I ask why you're telling me this now?"

Remus gripped the edge of his chair so tightly that Sirius could see his knuckles turning white. "Because when you asked about being friends, I realized I didn't want that with you. I—I want something more."

"I think they call that a relationship," Sirius joked, though he was scarcely able to believe his ears.

For the first time since he entered the room, Remus smiled. "Yes, I suppose they do."

"Well, I want something more with you, too," Sirius confessed. "That's why I kept asking you personal questions when we were working together. I wanted to get to know you better."

Remus gazed up at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Sirius laughed. He grabbed Remus' hand and pulled him to his feet. "And now I'd _really_ like to kiss you."

Remus' voice was shy as he said, "I'd really like that, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: (character) Harry Potter, (phrase) judgment-free zone
> 
> Took some liberties (probably) with the depiction of physical therapy. 
> 
> If you've been enjoying the series, please leave a kudos or comment and let me know! :)


End file.
